


submersion (in one act)

by Cloudnine101



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Adventure, Character Study, Episode: s02e02 Episode 2, Family, Gen, Imagery, M/M, Pre-Slash, Short, prose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-20 02:27:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3633279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cloudnine101/pseuds/Cloudnine101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'He rides out, towards a waterfall - a stream of blue and white - and somewhere nearby, Merlin calls his name.'</p><p> </p><p>Sometimes, as the storm rages, you must find another way to cross.</p>
            </blockquote>





	submersion (in one act)

Between them, something has shifted. It happened in a moment; in a touch, in a breath, in a gleam of steel.

He rides out, towards a waterfall - a stream of blue and white - and somewhere nearby, Merlin calls his name.

_Arthur?_

Above them, the tower looms: grey, dark, forbidding.

If we weren't sure Morgause was a sorcerer before, we can be certain of it now.

And they can - so very, very certain, with fire in their bodies and blood and bones. Arthur feels it; feels it, with every fibre of his being.

It is wrong. It is wrong.

There is ivy, on the walls - and there she is, gold and red, pale and fine. If Arthur was one to be tempted, he would be tempted now.

As it is, he places his head upon the block.

 _Arthur, don't_ , Merlin says.

The wood is cool, beneath his touch; the blade a flame, against his skin. Somewhere far away, he can hear Merlin breathe - soft, and gentle.

Morgause does not strike.

_You have shown that you are truly a man of your word, Arthur Pendragon - and for that, I will grant you one wish._

He follows Morgause; into spiralling labyrinths, his boot-heels clicking among the cobbles, rising to match the cacophony of the thoughts inside his head.

The flames cast the woman's face in steaks of red, and burnished gold. She is set aflame.

_Are you sure you want to do this?_

Merlin stares at him - looking for answers, for prayers, for doubt. He cannot give it to him. He can only give him the nausea; the sensation of spinning, plunging forwards recklessly. Arthur Pendragon can offer ice, and no more. That is all he has ever had.

And Arthur is sure - so sure - and-

_What if my father's attitude to magic is wrong?_

_It is time_ , Morgause tells them. _Close your eyes._

There is fear, written all over Merlin's face. If Arthur could - if it was right - he would take him in his arms, and stroke the hair back from his forehead, and rock away his pain.

Arthur does.

When he opens them, his mother is before him; young, and strong, and beautiful. She has curls of sunflower, and eyes of brown. They are his eyes.

She holds him in his arms; softly, gently - and he leans into it, the warmth that he has never felt before - even with Merlin's eyes on his face, and his cheekbones lit with shadow, and Arthur's arms around his chest, dragging him forwards.

_Your father was desperate for an heir. Without it, the Pendragon line could not continue._

The chainmail chafes against his skin, rubbing his body raw. There will be marks, left behind. He will have to buy a poultice - perhaps there is one to ease the rushing in his mind, the tingling in his fingertips, the buzzing in his brain-

 

Igraine Pendragon talks. Her voice is honeyed, and - still. Pure. Alive. 

 

_You were born of magic._

_To create a life, a life must be taken._

_He sacrificed my life so that the Pendragon dynasty could continue._

_Do not let this knowledge change you._

 

Arthur's heart pounds, inside his mind. There is water, racing in his veins - rushing to his skull, pooling in the very depths of his chest. It is like the river, except he is submerged in it - and there is so much pain, constricting in his throat, expanding and widening and forcing a path, until it exits, in the only way it knows how.

_No._

_Are you alright?_

It is Merlin's voice, and Merlin's words - and all he wants is to step closer, to breach the void, to shoulder the tempest aside, and take and take and take, until there is nothing left in the world to want.

_Arthur?_

 

Arthur?

 

Arthur?


End file.
